


Infection

by Zipp0Flare



Series: A Hunter and a Smoker Walk into a Bar [1]
Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Family, Gen, How do I tag on this site?, Hurt not much comfort, Left 4 Dead OCs, Legit made these babies back in 2015 and figured I'd better write origin stories for them, Origin Stories, may turn into a full fledged story who knows, rated for language and basic Left 4 Dead stuff, re-write of past stories originally posted on deviantARt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zipp0Flare/pseuds/Zipp0Flare
Summary: Luke, Malcom, and Anabelle are three people residing in Tennessee during the zombie outbreak. Unfortunately for them, they don't know the true story about the Green Flu, only what CEDA is trying to inform people to hold back mass panic from arising as well as what people 'searching for the truth' are posting. Too bad 'zombie apocalypse' is too far fetched of an idea for them to even consider it to be true.
Series: A Hunter and a Smoker Walk into a Bar [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666543
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	1. How it All Began

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote two stories back in 2015 when I first got into the Left 4 Dead fandom called Infection part 1 and Infection part 2, featuring Luke, Malcom, and their friend Vince. I hadn't thought that I would revisit and re-write said stories, deciding to let that part of my life be and just be happy with what I had put together. Despite trying several times and having multiple ideas, Anabelle never got a story for herself, merely a drawing of her appearance.
> 
> When the Corona Virus stuff came out and has come to a head, though, I just got inspired to re-write everything (while still paraphrasing here and there where I liked my writing/didn't need to improve from the dA stories). Noted, all of this was written between 10pm and 6am on nothing but notepad, so there are bound to be errors here and there.

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since this so called 'Green Flu' had started somewhere in Pennsylvania and was slowly making its way east through the country. Not much coverage was put on about it, only that CEDA, 'Had it under control' and were 'taking precautionary measures'. At least, that's what they told the residents of Luke's small town in Tennessee. 

There was still quite a bit of panic going on, though, with some people hoarding supplies, other's claiming, 'it's the end of the world', and some people just... not giving a shit and claiming, 'it's about time something like this happened. I always knew these people were going to fuck up the world.' 

Luke Hall, however, was currently in the third category of people, despite his previous actions during the last 'pandemic' that actually turned out to be nothing. He shook his head as he considered his overreaction to what turned out to be nothing more than an alternative to the flu bug, including holing himself up in his apartment building, along with the fire axe that he had stolen from said apartment building. Needless to say, he had to pay a small fine or risk being evicted.

This time, he wasn't going to go crazy, he wasn't going to lose his head, and he certainly wasn't going to let the fear mongering get to him, no matter how frightening what little 'true media' he had ingested seemed to say (zombies? Really? Get a grip on reality and go outside for once!). So it was without any hesitation that he stepped outside to gather the daily mail delivered to his apartment building, albeit quite a bit later in the day than usual, an action he almost stopped entirely when he saw his, somewhat crazy, elderly next door neighbor also at the mailbox. 'It's quarter to six in the evening. Why the hell is she out here at this hour?'

Not wanting to have to sit through another disgusting story about her toe jam, or about her late husband's not so clean lifestyle, he chose to silently approach, avoid any eye contact, and just go about unlocking his particular address' box to see what junk mail he received this time around. To say Luke was surprised when Meridith Johnson didn't even notice him was an understatement, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead, the woman seemed transfixed on nothing, simply swaying from side to side with a far off look in her eyes. Just as Luke finished going through what was, as assumed, his daily dose of junk mail, the elderly woman finally seemed to notice his presence and what little sanity seemed to remain in her eyes immediately transfixed on him instead. 

Deciding to bite the bullet, he started with a, 'Hey there, Mrs. Johnson," only to be met with the woman surging toward him and gripping onto his arm with more strength than her frail body seemed to hold. "What are you doing? Let go of me!" Before he could pull his arm out of her grip, she pulled it close and bit down, hard, breaking skin. With a mentality of, 'Fuck this! Self defense it is!', he ripped his hand out of her grasp, causing more damage in the process, and elbowed the old woman in the stomach. Meridith let out a yelp of pain, almost like a wounded animal would, and immediately took off.

"Crazy bitch! What the hell!?" Junk mail forgotten, Luke immediately made for his apartment to treat his now, seriously bleeding, arm. "Should have known she would have snapped at some point... biting that hard though? Did she really have to go to that extent? Jesus Christ..." As he continued to mutter to himself Luke began to search for any sort of antiseptic, bleeding on the carpet in his apartment along the way (goodbye, security deposit), to wash out whatever crazy germs the old woman may have had. "I swear, if she was infected, I'm going to lose my shit..." Luke let out a small 'a-ha!' when the antiseptic was found and began to basically pour the entire bottle over his wound , hovering his arm over the sink and watching as the mix of blood and antiseptic quickly poured down the drain. He immediately stopped when what he said just hit him.

'Shit... what if she was infected? Do I call CEDA and tell them about this? They'll probably throw me in whatever quarantine center they have if I do though. Which would be pointless, because I don't even know if I'm infected anyway...' He let out a sigh as he tossed the now empty bottle in the recycling container and went about wrapping his arm in gauze to help stop whatever bleeding hadn't yet stopped. "I'm not doing that. No point in driving everyone crazy with this if it's just Mrs. Johnson finally losing her mind. Mom and Dad are already dealing with enough as it is..." With that mentality, Luke continued with getting ready for his Saturday meet-up with his friends, though he couldn't help but notice that he was starting to get a bit of a cough.


	2. The Northern Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say 'the plot thickens', but I'm pretty sure we all know where this is headed at this point. Warning for violence and insinuated character death.

Malcom 'Mal' Bell was honestly surprised when the bar/rave he and his friend frequented hadn't yet shut down, something about the owner 'not being afraid of no damn false alarm bullshit', despite CEDA's nagging that people needed to stay home and not risk infection. It was something he was thankful for, though, after getting a phone call from his crazy religious father, claiming that 'You're no son of mine! God will strike you and your whore mother down!', something that he was sure his half siblings weren't present in the nearby vicinity to be spouting out such hateful speech. His mother, however, was a different story.

"Honey, please don't go out tonight." Janet Bell pleaded her son with tears in her eyes. "I have a really bad feeling that things aren't going to go well tonight. I know that you're angry with your father and you want to meet with your friends, but it's best to stay safe." Mal let out a sigh, both because his mother knew him too well to have guessed his reasoning for leaving the house that night as well as the fact that he was going to disappoint the most important person in his life. "I'm sorry mom, but I just need to clear my head right now. And you shouldn't be calling that bastard my dad, you heard him yourself. If he doesn't consider me his, I won't consider him mine. It's not like he treated me like one before anyway."

Janet gave out her own sigh, knowing how stubborn her son could be, and relented. "Just... be safe, Mal. You're all that I have. You know I'm worried about you because I care. If anything seems wrong, you come straight home. And please, stop with the smoking already, I'm ready to hide those things from you, along with your ID, if you don't stop, Malcom." Mal couldn't help but smile at his mother's words and gave her a small hug. "I will, mom. I'll be careful, and I'll come home safe. And I'm trying to quit, give me some time." With those words he began his short drive to his favorite place in town, The Northern Lights Rave & Bar, and strolled inside where his friend, Vince Baker, was already nursing what may have been his first or even third drink of the night. 

"Hey asshole, getting started without me already? You're going to make me be DD, aren't you?" Mal asked with a laugh as he sat down next his his friend. The man wasn't without his odd appearances like usual, wearing a camouflage shirt made of shades of grey and his hair styled in a Mohawk/ponytail combination. "You act surprised. What with the dumb ski hat?" Vince snarked as he pointed to the colorful purple and burgundy hat that was quite the eyesore, in his opinion. "It's cold out, dickbag. As if you're one to talk." Mal shot back as he playfully shoved his friend. "You heard anything from Luke?" 

"No, and I honestly don't expect to see him, if I'm being completely honest." Vince replied. "I mean, you remember his reaction to the last 'epidemic', and there wasn't even this much coverage and fear mongering going on with it." Mal had to hold back a laugh at the memory that his friend brought up. He had been the one to find Luke in that position, having not seen the man for a few days, only for his friend to answer the door with a sheepish look and his apartment's fire axe in his hands. 

"You've got a point. Just figured I'd ask, no telling if he may change his tune this time around." Almost as if summoned, Mal felt a hand clap down on his shoulder, causing the black haired man to let out a yelp in surprise and Vince to break out cackling, which turned into coughing when he swallowed the wrong way. "Hey, sorry I'm late." Luke apologized as he took a seat next to Mal. "Holy shit, didn't expect to see you here." Vince said in surprise after he managed to get his voice back and calm down the coughing. "Well, glad to know I'm still an enigma to you two idiots." Luke said with a tired smile before turning toward Mal. "You know you look like an idiot with that on, right Mal?" He asked his friend, who only gave an offended scoff.

"Stop hating on the hat. As if you're one to talk either, wearing those stupid ass goggles and arm warmers. You know a coat goes a long way, right?" Mal stated as he straightened out his fur lined coat in emphasis, only to get a playful shove from his white-haired friend. "Seriously, though, what are you doing here in the first place?" Mal was surprised when his question received a glare, which turned toward Vince when he followed up with, "Yeah, he's right. I mean, you have heard about the Green Flu going around, right? There's been a couple confirmed cases in the area already."

“I could ask you the same question." Luke shot back. "I could ask everyone here the same question. I came here because I had planned to ever since Tuesday. But it looks like the hype about this flu has caused everyone to run for home with their tail between their legs.” He waved around the bar, gaining a few looks from the people close by, before turning his face into his elbow and letting out a series of harsh coughs, causing his friends to scoot away from him a few inches. "Don't tell me you came here with it!" Vince harshly whispered. "The hell were you thinking?"

"My throat's just been sore, I don't have the Flu." Luke swore, only to be met with skeptical looks from his friends. “I think you should go back home. You don’t know if you’re not infected, and none of us want to come down with the thing." Vince said carefully, trying not to rile up his friend even further. "I mean, I’ve heard some people are dying from it.” He actually sounded somewhat worried, though it was hard to tell if the worry was for his friend, or for himself.

"That's just the media hyping things up, fear mongering and shit like that. I would ask if you two remember the last so called 'pandemic', but I don't want to hear your over exaggerated retelling of it. I've gotten pretty sick of that dumbass story." He said harshly, though it didn't stop Mal from snickering and Vince letting out a loud guffaw at the memory; it was his favorite story, after all. "So just like nothing happened then, everything's just going to blow over in another week or so, and everyone will soon forget about the Green Flu. Or at least be making dumbass memes about it all." Luke raised a hand into the air with three fingers up, and waved to the bartender, earning a nod as the woman behind the bar got to work.

“So… you’re sure your not infected, right?” Vince asked cautiously, wanting to be sure that everything was alright. “Yes. I know I’m not infected. I haven’t even been near someone who’s sick." Luke reaffirmed. As he spoke, though, he couldn't help but remember his thoughts earlier that day along with the fact that he wasn't even tested. He shook his head immediately after, though, not wanting to dwell on the negative thoughts. 

"Though…” His face scrunched up in disgust, to which his two friend gave him odd looks. “You remember my weird ass neighbor? Who lives in the apartment to the right of mine?”

“You mean crazy old hag Meri-something?” Vince received a nod. “What the hell did she do this time? Start up a story about her toe jam again?” Mal had to keep from retching when he heard Vince, even though he hadn’t been there for whatever this story was, unlike his poor friends. “No, not another toe jam story. I went to get my mail this morning and saw her by the box already. I've gotten to the habit of seeming to not notice her and she doesn't bother speaking with me when I do so. I managed to get all of my mail, though, and even look everything over, but she just stood there not doing anything."

"I figured I'd just be a good neighbor," Vince snickered again while Mal just looked shocked that Luke would pull such a bold move, "and I asked if she was alright. She finally looked at me then, but there was just... something with her eyes. Before I could do anything the old bat grabbed my arm and bit me! I have no idea what was going through her freaky mind, but it was hard enough to break the skin.” He began to rub the injured arm as he told the story, and Mal noticed some bandages peeking out from underneath the black arm warmer. 'So that's why he put those on...'

“The fuck?!" Vince exclaimed, not noticing the detail that Mal had. "I knew she was out of her mind, but biting people? What did you do?" He asked, knowing the story couldn't have ended there. "I managed to get my arm out of hands, which was pretty strong by the way, and elbowed her in the stomach. She sounded like some kicked puppy and ran off. I don't know what happened to her after that." 

“She broke the skin? Did you disinfect and all that crap?” Luke nodded. “I pretty much bathed it in rubbing alcohol, which burned like hell I might add.” Mal and Vince still looked disgusted with the story, thankful that neither of them had a out-of-their-mind neighbor that went around biting people. “Maybe you should head back home.” Vince piped up after a few moments of silence. “If she bit you and all, maybe she’s infected?” Once again, Luke thought back to his earlier thoughts and tried not to let the uncertainty show on his face. Maybe he should have stayed home after all.

“I’m sure the cause of that is from being out of her mind. I’m fine.” Luke stressed the word 'fine’. Denial is a pretty good coping mechanism today it seems. “So, you wanted to come here on a Saturday, mainly only because we always do. You also think that all of this is just the media hyping things up a bit. I still don’t see you going out, risking getting sick. You’re the one who’s always against that kind of-”

Luke quickly cut him off with an exclamation of, "It's nothing!" which startled his friends as well as those nearby. "The Green Flu is just your normal, fucking Flu. Nothing more, nothing less." He practically hissed, aggression radiating off of him. "Dude... what the hell has your panties in a bunch?" Vince questioned, whilst Mal decided it was best to leave his friend alone and stop provoking him with constant probing for answers. " There was only silence from Luke, who seemed to almost be refusing to answer Vince's question. Luke eventually caved, however.

“Maddie’s sick.” Those two words were so quiet that Luke’s friends almost didn’t catch what Luke had said. As soon as the statement registered, though, the two immediately realized just why their friend was so gung-ho about things. Maddie, Madeline, was Luke’s five-year-old sister; she meant the world to him. “Maddie’s sick with it. And if I start freaking out about this whole thing, I"m basically telling myself that my little sister’s going to die.” He bit his lower lip. “So, all of this is just nothing, alright?”

“… Sorry, I.. I had no idea, man. I get the feeling, though. If shit like that happened to Annabelle...” Mal apologized, trailing off as he thought of his half-sister before getting back on track. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s currently in quarantine with CEDA. Or, that’s what I’m being told.” Fuck. Not this shit. Mal had heard some pretty nasty horror stories about CEDA camps. Then again, that was also the word of people who were saying shit like zombies were out walking around while having no video proof of such a profound claim. Luke coughed into his arm again, even more harshly than before. “I’m not sick, you can drop it.” Luke knew what his friends were thinking and his words shut them up before they could say anything.

The bartender came back with his drink, but Luke could tell that she was keeping her distance as well. “Damn, why the hell is everyone acting like this..” He growled. Luke was hardly ever this agitated but Mal and Vince took it as him simply being worked up about his younger sister.

The three sat in silence for a while, Luke and Vince nursing their drinks while Mal contemplated sticking with his promise to his mother and going home for the night. He was about to call it a night when violent swearing interrupted him. “They need to turn down these fucking lights. My eyes are burning from them!” His friends cringed, not expecting Luke’s outburst. Vince looked around in confusion, not seeming to see anything different from the usual atmosphere. “Uh… the lights are the same as they always are. You sure you’re oka-”

“I’m fine! Dammit, I’m fine!” Luke held his injured arm close to him, his fingers digging into it. Vince simply held his hands in front of him as if to guard himself from Luke’s verbal lashing. Luke didn't say anything more as another bout of coughing came over him, growing steadily worse, and he was beginning to notice a slightly red stain decorating the inside of his arm. Maybe he was seeing things though, his eyesight seemed to steadily be growing worse, and it was hard to think of anything with the pounding headache that had suddenly overwhelmed him.

Luke could barely make out his friend’s worried looks, only seeing their lips moving while no sound came from their mouths, but the music in the background seemed to only be getting louder and louder, the noise assaulting his eardrums and causing his headache to grow worse. Soon enough his couldn't even make out his friend's faces as his eyesight went dark and a burning sensation came from his eyes, a warm liquid slowly running down his face. Was that copper he could smell?

Mal and Vince had only become more and more concerned for Luke, giving him questions and suggestions, both of which went unanswered. None of that, though, compared to the panic going through their systems when their friend suddenly fell off the seat, bleeding out of his eyes. “Holy shit! Someone call an ambulance, or something!” Mal exclaimed as adrenaline rushed through him and he began to almost hyperventilate.

“C'mon, Luke! You’ve been through worse, stay with us!” Vince yelled with frustration, trying to make things not at bad as they seemed, as he crouched down next to his friend. The bartender had already called 911, though Vince and Mal were wondering if it would do any good now. Luke was barely breathing, his eyes closed, and any wheezing breaths he did let out were followed by harsh coughs.

When Luke slowly started to come to, letting out groans and what sounded like low growling, Vince's hope skyrocketed while alarm bells began to ring in Mal's head. Any hope came crashing down, though, when Luke suddenly rolled off of his back and onto his stomach, crouching and growling at his 'friends’. Mal jumped to his feet and tried to pull Vince back with him by the collar of his shirt, though Vince fought the action as he tried to talk his friend down. He wasn't even able to say much of anything before 'Luke' lunged at them, pinning Vince to the ground.

With nails that had somehow quickly grown into almost claws, 'Luke’ began to claw at Vince, quickly slicing right through his shirt and into skin. Despite all warnings in his head telling him to run, to get out and never look back, Mal was determined not to lose another friend and managed to shove 'Luke' off of Vince. The monster simply flipped over mid-air, landing on all fours, and sprung for Mal instead.

The first attack shredded his jacket and t-shirt like paper; the second hit skin, sending a searing pain through Mal’s body. He tried to scream, tried to do something other than let this thing that was once Luke to continue to tear into him. When he thought he couldn’t take the pain much longer, that he was going to bleed out there on the floor, he saw a knife come down toward them, held by the bartender, and heard of a howl of pain as it struck true and into 'Luke's shoulder. Blood poured from the wound and down to Mal's own injuries, causing pain to spoke up even further. 

His savior quickly stepped away when she saw that the violent distraction had worked, not wanting to become a victim herself, before turning tail and running away. 'Luke' almost tore off after her, out of anger or some animalistic behavior, before he saw Vince now on the floor and struggling to get away. He pounced once more, going for his earlier prey, leaving Mal to try to gather his wits about what the hell just happened. 

Mal somehow managed to use his forearms and elbows to prop himself up but wished he hadn’t when he saw 'Luke’ beginning to shred Vince once more. The screaming, all the blood and gore, all of it was too much for Mal to take. Vince was past saving by now, and had even given up his struggles to get 'Luke’ off of himself, and Mal knew that he couldn’t do a thing either.

The man believed that the only reason he was able to move at all was from a strong act of self preservation. He had managed to slowly sit up and shakily got to his feet. He froze when he had stumbled though; Mal feared that these small actions would have possibly alerted 'Luke’ as to what he was doing. When he looked for the thing though, he saw that it had left Vince, who was now quickly bleeding out, for a fresh, new victim.

He knew he couldn’t do anything for these people, and even if he tried it would be a sheer act of suicide. Instead, he stumbled away from the chaos and to the fire exit.


	3. No Such Thing as Happy Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one or two more chapters to go, all depends on if I split this next part up or not.

Mal found himself falling to his knees several times, each time sending a new wave of pain through his body, before he had finally made it outside where he collapsed onto the ground while still holding onto his profusely bleeding side where the monster his friend had become had torn into him.

Managing to get back to his feet, Mal removed his hand from his side to stare at the crimson liquid that had leaked from there. Everywhere on his body hurt, and he was covered in massive cuts. His clothing was beyond shredded and hung loosely around his body. He questioned once more if this was futile, if he was going to die before he managed to get help.

Where would he even get help? CEDA? Fuck that, if the zombie shit was true then the CEDA camp horror stories definitely were as well. He couldn't go home either, not without risking his mother who was already not in the best of health as is. Another thought soon occurred to him. He recalled Luke’s story, of how he hadn’t been around anyone infected, but his crazy neighbor had bit him earlier that morning. “Is that going to happen to me?” Mal asked as he looked down at himself once more, now remembering that the monster had bled into his wounds. “Maybe… maybe I’m immune to this whole flu…”

He said, trying to convince himself away from what could be his grim fate as he unsteadily walked out of the alleyway, looking around for any help. No dice. If he had a choice between dying, or living as some mindless monster, he would chose the former in a heartbeat. He didn’t want to turn into whatever Luke had become; He didn’t want to attack and kill those he cared about, ripping them to bloody pieces.

Mal didn’t have the time to continue to fret, as he soon found himself on his hands and knees again. He couldn’t help crying out in pain, or the hacking coughs that came afterward. The taste of copper soaked onto his tongue and Mal spat out the blood. “So… this..” He hacked up more blood and continued to cough even further after that. “This is… how I’m going… going to die..” He didn’t care anymore that each word felt like knives digging into his throat.

He continued to hold himself up with one hand while the other came up to his throat, meaning to rub it as if it would get rid of the pain, but stopped once he felt the massive swelling growth on the side of his neck. His hacking turned into gagging, and he felt as if he was choking on his own blood.

Mal was far from being a praying man, one of the things his father hated about him, but he couldn’t help but close his eyes and do so as he stood on his hands and knees, bleeding out on the dirty, unlit sidewalk. “Please God… please..” He coughed some more and the swelling on the side of his throat seemed to grow. “Don’t… don’t let me..” He couldn’t speak any further as his coughing continued to grow worse and worse, until he could hardly get a breath in before he continued to do so. 'Don’t let me die here..’

When Mal tried to open his eyes, he could barely open one, the other feeling as if it had swollen shut. His free hand moved from the giant swelling growth on his neck to his face, only to find the swelling there as well. Mal tried to pull off that stupid ski hat that he had worn that day, but found the act to be painful as it began to pull on the growths on the left side of his face and most likely now underneath the cap.

He continued to hack, cough, choke and struggled for each breath. Finally he allowed himself to give up and fall to the ground, knowing he wouldn’t make it out of this alive. It felt as if his tongue had joined in the act of choking him, and allowed it to fall out in some sad act to get just a little more air into his lungs. Mal vaguely noticed the swelling had spread to his arms, each one adding to the sickening color his body was beginning to take on, but he hardly cared anymore.

He allowed his mind to wander to his friends, both of whom were as good as gone. He thought of his family; how distraught his mother would be at the news of his death, crying that she had insisted for him to stay home that night. Mal was now wishing he had listened to her every word. He thought of his father, and wondered if the man would even care about his gruesome death.

Mal could hardly breathe anymore, and found each attempt of the act painful. Even so, He continued to endure the painful struggles, though, in some sad attempt to stay alive.

There was a sound behind Mal that brought him out of his stupor. A door had opened behind him, coupled with the low sound of growling. 'Dammit, it followed me… it’s gonna finish its job and kill me here…’ He wondered why he was even worried at this point; he was a dead man anyway.

The footsteps of the thing that Luke had become drew closer, until they stopped right next to Mal. He took a chance and looked up, an act that was almost impossible now, to see the thing with its head turned down at him. He would say it almost had a feral look to it, except he couldn't see any eyes below the hood at this point.

“'ou.. 'ou did thith to me…” Mal managed to get out, though it was quite the difficult task between the coughs, gagging, and his overly swolen tongue as well. He didn’t receive a response as the thing simply 'stared' down at him. It gave one last low growl before it took off, leaping too far into the air to be human, and landed on the roof of the rave and out of view. 

Part of Mal wished the thing had finished its job instead of leaving him here to bleed out on the street. Mal was surprised he was even still alive at this point. He continued to hack and cough as he laid there. Once more he thought back to his friends, of how he already missed Vince, and how much he hated the thing Luke had become, that had taken the both of them away from Mal. He wanted that thing dead. He didn’t want it to continue to run around and kill people in Luke’s body.

Even as his vision faded, he still thought of that hatred, and how much he would hate himself if he was to become one of them.


	4. Family Picture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence, both Left 4 Dead kind and domestic, as well as implied child abuse.
> 
> I honestly wasn't sure how to write Nathan, but I had a general idea of how I wanted him to be. I don't know how families that are like this actually are in real life, so I'll admit that I'm just going with the stereotype for this one. I will admit, this was originally going to go in a different direction than it actually did, but I couldn't find a way to work in the original version and make it make sense, unless I decided to mess up how quickly the infection took hold and be extremely inconsistent.

"Nathan?" Marissa Moore called to her husband across the room as she covered the receiver on the house phone. "Janet's on the line. She's wondering if you've heard from Malcom." Nathan's face turned red behind his newspaper at the two names and he quickly got to his feet to take the phone from his wife's hand. "Why the hell are you calling and asking about that little shit?" He fiercely whispered over the phone, not wanting his two children to overhear his vile language. Over the phone he could hear his ex-wife crying.

"Malcom went to see his friends last night, and he never came home. I haven't heard from him since. Nate, I know that there's no love lost between you two, but I was hoping he may have driven over there since it's closer to Northern Lights than here." Hearing how distraught she sounded almost cooled Nathan's temper toward his ex, until he remembered just why he removed himself from the woman he quickly fired back, "Well he's not, and I haven't seen him. I don't want to see him. Probably got black out drunk if he went to that damn bar. Don't call here asking about him again." With that he quickly ended the call, still fuming, while Marissa looked at him in surprise.

"You know... you really didn't have to go that far."

"I did. Those two removed God from their lives and refuse to believe in Him. In turn, I refuse to put up with them. Like I said, if he went to that damn bar he probably got drunk or something similar. He's twenty-six at this point, should know better, and she should stop worrying over him like he's some five-year-old." At the sound of footsteps coming toward the kitchen Nathan forced himself to calm down so that his actual children didn't see the state he had been in. 

"I heard shouting, is everything okay?" Anabelle, his seventeen-year-old daughter asked, showing that Nathan hadn't been as quiet as he had wanted. "Everything's alright, hun. Your father just got off the phone with Janet." Marissa said with a sigh as she continued to make breakfast. Anabelle frowned, not seeing why her father's ex-wife would be calling here. She wasn't dumb when it came to her father's great dislike toward her half-brother and his mother, eavesdropping made such 'secrets' rather moot. 

"Doesn't mean that everything's okay, though." Anabelle pushed, only to be literally pushed by her little brother Kobe, who was tired of standing in the hallway. "Move your butt, Ana! I want food!" It was hard to believe the kid was twelve and not four like he tended to act at times. "Stop being a brat and I will."

"Kids, calm down and get into the kitchen. Your mother is almost finished making breakfast for you." Nathan said as he tried to herd the two into the room to keep from murdering each other. Anabelle proceeded forward, but approached her mother instead of making her way to the table all while Kobe practically dove for the table.

"Seriously, though, why did Ms. Bell call?" Anabelle asked her mother as she tried to keep her voice down. "Malcom didn't come home last night and she was wondering if he came here instead." They may have been half siblings, and her father certainly did not like his first son, but Anabelle had great respect and care for Malcom. Hearing that he was missing sent a jolt of fear through her and she was only able to respond with an, "Oh..."

"I'm sure he's fine, Janet just has a habit of worrying about him is all. He may have had to go to his friend's house and had a dead phone so he wasn't able to call her." Marissa reasoned, though Anabelle quickly saw many reasons why that wouldn't be a valid excuse. Not wanting to dwell on the negative, Anabelle instead turned toward a different subject. "So... school's cancelled for Kobe and me. Is your work still having people come in?" The grimace on her mother's face was all the answer she needed and her face fell. "You'd think they'd close the office down with this epidemic going on. I've seen some nasty stuff about it so far. What if you get sick or something?"

"We are people of God. Those who have forsaken Him will be struck down with this illness, and those loyal will walk away unscathed. Your mother will be fine." Nathan said matter-of-factly with an air of holier than thou to him; Anabelle had to keep from rolling her eyes. "I'm just worried, y'know." She huffed before taking a seat next to her younger brother. 

Once breakfast had been finished and Marissa wished her children and husband goodbye, Nathan turned to his children and handed them each a rather hefty looking bible. "Even though you kids don't have school right now, that doesn't excuse you from shirking your learning. I want you to read over these and memorize it. You can never be too far from the Lord's side. Anabelle took the offered book with a forced smile whilst Kobe looked disappointed that he couldn't spend all day playing video games as he had previously planned. "Will do, dad. Don't you worry. Kobe and I will even go to my room so we can help each other out."

"But I wanna-" Kobe stopped when his sister subtly elbowed him while still keeping the same face. "I mean, yeah, we'll read this." With that he was led, by the hand, to his sister's room where she closed the door and sat on her bed, dropping the bible next to her. "What was the big deal, Ana?" Her little brother asked, frowning as he tossed his own book toward the bed as well. "Neither of us want to do dad's crazy religious stuff, and I don't want to get in trouble for it. So we're going to sit down in here, me on my phone and you on my DS or something, okay?" She quickly put her index finger to her lips in a shushing motion before Kobe could let out a whoop of excitement and pulled out her phone to see if there was any new information on the Green Flu. 

Kobe plopped down on the bed next to her after fishing out the earlier mentioned game system and had started playing a game he popped into the cartridge slot, though he stopped when he noticed just how silent his sister was. "What's eating your butt?" He asked. "I'm just... I'm just worried about Mal, that's all."

"But mom said he's probably at his friend's house or somethin'." Kobe replied, not seeing why she was all torn up about his half-brother. "Even if his phone's dead though, that doesn't mean that his friends' phone are as well. Plus, chargers exist and he would have had plenty of time between last night and now to charge his phone and call Ms. Bell." Anabelle reasoned. Kobe had nothing to say to that, only making a face and turning back to his game.

Hours later they heard the door opening and closing, signifying that their mother had returned home from work. The coughing that followed, however, stopped the two children from running to see her. "Do you think..." Kobe began as he looked to his older sister, concern quite evident on his face. "Stay in here, I'll see what's going on. I've heard some pretty bad stuff about this, and I don't want you getting caught up in it."

"Bad stuff? What kind of bad stuff? Is mom gonna be okay?" Further questions were silenced when a loud, "What the hell happened?!" Came from the other room, sounding like their father. "I'll tell you later. Stay here!" Anabelle quickly left her room and locked the door behind her, ensuring that her brother couldn't just waltz out after her. Upon seeing just why her dad was shouting, though, she was very glad that she did. Marissa looked in absolutely terrible shape with torn clothing and a few bites here and there. "Mom?! Mom, what happened?!"

"Some idiot... came to work infected. Turned rabid and started biting people left and right..." Marissa muttered, barely staying on her feet. "It looks like the Lord has done his work, though. You've survived the trials and came out-" 

"Screw your trials!" Marissa exclaimed, causing Anabelle to recoil. "Your trials are nothing but bullshit! I can see why Janet wasn't able to stand your preaching, going on and on like this all the time! People don't deserve to turn into some animals, all because they don't follow your insane rules of life! He is supposed to be forgiving, and care for people, why the hell would this be happening if that was the case?!"

Nathan seemed to freeze up and grow angry, though he managed to calm himself before getting too out of hand. "The Flood was a trial-" A slap to the face interrupted him as his wife looked upon him with anger in her eyes that were also beginning to well up with tears. "Again, screw your trials! Anabelle, get your brother, we're leaving."

"Don't you dare, young lady!" Nathan was fuming now as his more violent side began to show. "You are a heathen! You don't belong in this house!" He exclaimed as he shoved his wife to the ground, causing her to let out a sound of pain as the carpet rubbed harshly against her wounds. She merely spat in his face in retaliation which only added fuel to the man's angry fire. Without hesitation he took hold of his next ex-wife's hair and proceeded to drag her out of the room, where Anabelle took the distraction to unlock her door and grab her brother who now had tears in his eyes. "We've got to go, now!"

"What about mom? What's happening?" He asked, having heard most of what had gone on through the door. "She may be infected, and I don't want to chance something happening to us if we don't get out of here. I'm sorry..." As much as she hated it, Anabelle knew that self preservation meant making sacrifices, and this was one that she was willing to take to get her and her annoying brother out safely. "Oh no you don't! I've dealt with the nonbeliever, you two aren't going anywhere."

Anabelle looked toward the door that her father had disappeared through, only to see him covered in a few bites, most likely defensive, and scratch marks. 'Run!' immediately came to Anabelle's head, and she did just that, but she wasn't able to get away before her father took hold over her own arm. "I said you're not leaving." His nails dug into her arm until they drew blood, and she had to wrench her arm out of his grasp, doing more damage in the process to get away. "Run, Kobe. Run!" 

She didn't have to speak twice as she let go of her brother and he went careening out of the house with his sister hot on his heels, though their father wasn't going to give up without a chase of his own. When he caught a hold of her hand once more, she wasn't able to get out of his grasp again, feeling like he had grown stronger over the short span of time since he last took hold of her. "I said no!" Fear spiked through Anabelle when she realized that she couldn't get away again, and it only grew worse when she noticed Kobe had stopped running and was making his way back toward her. 

"No, don't! Keep running! Get the police! Get out of here!" The last thing she saw was her brother booking it away from the house, before something hard hit her head and she blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter left!


	5. No Time For Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for usual Left 4 Dead violence. 
> 
> This is the final chapter for Infection, this was a fun trip everybody! Honestly, most of this plot came to me on my drive home from work this morning, so it's a little touch and go, but I'm happy with how things turned out.

When Anabelle slowly came to, it was to the feeling of the ground shaking. Was there some earthquake going on? What had even happened? It didn't take long for her memories to come back to her as she took in the sight of her room and the fact that she had last seen Kobe running far away from the house. 'Did he get away? Did dad catch him?'

She ran for the door to her room, only to find it locked when she jiggled the doorknob. The shaking picked up intensity at this action, followed by a guttural roar on the other side of her door. Anabelle let out a cry of surprise and fear at the noise and found herself falling down backwards to get away from whatever was currently just a few feet away from her and separated by a single wooden door. 

Part of her wanted to yell for someone, to scream at her dad, do something other than sit there in fear of this unknown... thing. But self preservation was keeping her silent. There was no more roaring, no more shaking, but instead a low, angry grunting, like some kind of large animal. 'Did something get in the house? I doubt my door would be able to stop it...'

An overwhelming sadness came across the teenager when she realized just how screwed she was, and how unknown everything going on was. What did her father do with her mother? Did Kobe escape? Was anyone coming to help her? And what the hell was on the other side of her bedroom door? "No... don't cry.. don't cry..." Anabelle whispered to herself, but it did no good as tears began to streak down her face and she frantically looked around her room for any escape. 

That was when her eyes landed on the window, and she was suddenly thankful that her house was only a single story house. She just needed to get the window open, break the screen, and get out that way. She quickly got to her feet and crept over to the closed window, trying not to make any sound as she cross the room and lifted up the glass pane. When it was halwfay up, though, it let out a loud squeak and Anabelle froze in fear that quickly turned to panic when she heard the roaring again and felt the ground shake once more. 

'Open, open, open! Screw subtlety!' Her brain yelled at her as she wrenched the window open the rest of the way and proceeded to kick the screen out. She was halfway out of the window when a loud 'bang' sounded behind her as her door was broken down, smashed to pieces. Muscle. A giant mass of muscle was all Anabelle could see and she began to cry even harder as she pulled herself the rest of the way out of the window and fell onto the ground.

A cry of pain left her when she landed on the arm that Nathan had grabbed earlier, and she looked down to see it a bruised mess. She couldn't have been out for very long but the crescent moon shaped cuts her father's fingernails had left already looked to be greatly infected. Anabelle didn't have time to dwell on just how bizarre this was before an even louder noise came from behind her, almost like a building was coming down, as the muscled mass shoved its way through the wall and made its way all too quickly toward her window.

The roaring only grew even angrier, if that was even possible, when the thing saw that she was missing from her room and the glass of her window shattered as a fist was rammed through the wall just above and behind Anabelle. Pleading wouldn't soothe this monster; it wanted Anabelle, and she didn't know if it wanted her dead or alive. 'I'm not sticking around to find that answer out...' She thought as she ran from the house, the opposite direction her brother had gone when he had fled from the front door. She didn't have much time before the thing had burst through the side of her home like it had through her bedroom wall and Anabelle was going to be sure to make as much of that time count.

"Please! Someone please help me!" She cried, no, screamed out to the empty streets. There were no lights on in any of the nearby houses, no sign of any life aside from her and that monster. Anabelle chanced a glance behind her, only to see a large portion of what had to be a wall from her house come soaring through the air in her direction. 'I'm not going to get out of the way in time!' was all that ran through her head before something _slimy _wrapped around her waist and jerked her off of the feet but out of the way of the falling debris. As quickly as whatever it was grabbed her it quickly let go, and Anabelle had to wonder what just saved her life. 'Was that... some kind of tongue?'__

__There was no use dwelling on the thought as the muscled monster continued to barrel toward her, running on its knuckles with horrendously over sized arms while the lower half of its body was the size of a normal human's. These details weren't the only thing she managed to catch a glance of, though; despite the body being mostly an obscene mass of muscle, Anabelle could recognize that body. That thing, that _monster_ , was her father. _ _

__'Fake' news articles about the Green Flu suddenly came to her memory as she began to run once again, about people having the mentality of zombies and eating other people, of some infected turning into mutated things. Someone came to her mom's work infected and bit Marissa. Marissa came home, spat on Anabelle's father along with some biting and scratching soon after. At the time it had seemed like those injuries were in self defense, but looking back at things, her mother could have gotten infected from those bites and in turn infected her own husband as well. That was the only explanation for the hulking abomination that was currently chasing after Anabelle at the moment._ _

__Her own infected looking arm now came her Anabelle's mind and she began to wonder if it was now her turn to turn toward the rabid side, to bite and tear and rend flesh from muscle and bone. How long would it take? Would there be any part of her left after this? More tears ran down her face as Anabelle's panic spiked even further than it had, distracting her even more to the point where she didn't even realize she was about to run into someone._ _

__Realization that there was, finally, another person right in front of her came too late and the two came crashing down to the ground together. "Oh thank god! I was so worried, I need help-" She cut herself off when she took in the sight of the thing that she had run into. It looked like a man, but his skin was deathly pale, his eyes almost glassy, and the skin around his mouth was covered in an eerily familiar red substance. Anabelle let out a scream of fear at the sight of this thing, this zombie, as the man leaned toward her with violent intent and bit into her already injured arm._ _

__Even more pain, even more fear, even more tears. Anabelle struck out with her free hand, scratching into the man's face and leaving gouges that seemed a bit too deep for a simple self defense scratch. The zombie let go of her arm at the injury but started to lean forward again, when he was stopped by the same something that had grabbed Anabelle by the waist wrapping around his neck and pulling him away from her. She watched in shocked horror as the zombie struggled against its bindings (yeah, that was definitely a tongue) before it was dragged out of sight between two houses._ _

__Some horrified fascination almost made her go see just what the hell had happened when another large piece of rubble soared through the air and over her head. Anabelle struggled to her feet but paused when she felt her nails dig into the ground below her. When she pulled her hands free, she was horrified to see, not regular, badly trimmed nails, but claws. 'That... that explains the scratch I left...' The giant thing that was once her father was almost upon her now, but Anabelle was no longer feeling fear, but instead shock, even greater sadness, and now a slight bit of anger even._ _

__"Get the hell away from me!" She screamed as she turned toward the hulking beast. She didn't even know what she was thinking when she began to run toward it instead of away from it, and it even seemed to catch the monster by surprise as well as it faltered slightly. It soon picked up steam again and grew angry once more when it saw how this tiny girl was defying him. As it aimed a swing for her head, Anabelle managed to roll underneath and continue running in the same direction, causing it to have to turn around. As she had thought, it seemed to have the turning radius of a truck and it took some time for it to get turned around and begin its chase once more. This was plenty of opportunity for Anabelle to put space between the two of them and begin to move between house at this point, hoping to lose the monster in the confusion._ _

__Eventually she saw a house with a door slightly ajar and, screwing the fear of breaking and entering, Anabelle darted inside and hunkered down and out of sight. There was no more fear, despite how loud the monster was, how much the ground shook, how much everything seemed to be coming to an end. Only sadness and pain. When the shaking seemed to grow distant, a sign that 'Nathan' hadn't found her hiding spot and was continuing on the move, she finally allowed herself to cry openly. And cry she did, weeping and sobbing and letting out a horrible wailing. She was going to turn into a monster, she was currently turning into a monster. Anabelle had no idea where her younger brother was, what happened to her older brother, and just what her father had done to her mother. She just knew that her father was now rampaging around as a muscled monstrosity, looking for her, and she just wanted to cry, cry, cry._ _


End file.
